


And Wonder...

by Missy



Category: Burn Notice
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-10
Updated: 2011-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-24 11:18:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Fiona share a secret past; one Fiona has never forgotten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Wonder...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MissKittyFantastico](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissKittyFantastico/gifts).



> Written for a prompt meme years ago - I still like this one, so i thought I'd share again.

This is the part of the story Fiona never told Michael, the part where she and Sam met in Berlin two days after the Wall came down. She found out later that he had been tracking a deal she had with a couple of renegade Chinese arms dealers, trying to keep her from running guns to them. The best course of action, Sam’s commanding officer had decided, was to distract her with charm, trade the guns for dupes while she was unconscious, and deport her back to Ireland.

He “bumped into her” at a God-forsaken café one night when her spirits were particularly low. He bought her a coffee because she ‘needed’ one, and she was charmed but not particularly interested (even at forty, he was old enough to be her father). The next time he saw her it was a brighter, warmer day (his eyes sparkled then, glowed with an inner unearthly light). They bothered with pleasantries, odd stories and cream-filled pastries, and then she took him back to her hotel.

They went swimming out in the pool, lit by ancient electric lights. Even the way he cut through the chlorine that night was a turn-on, The night was deserted and the kisses were fleeting and tempestuous. He picked her up with one hand and pulled her into his lap, saying “Last chance to back out, lady.” But she had already fallen into his deep brown eyes, taken the dare in their glimmer. In the pool, in the living room, in her borrowed bed….

Sam was strong in those days, with a thick upper body that rippled with muscles; he’s strong now but in a different way, the way a bear is fearsome. In those days, he was sleek like a panther, smooth as a stone.

Afterward, she played her records for him – her mother’s old Pat Brady. His body responded to music unconsciously, before he stood to sweep her off her feet and away.

“No matter what happens tomorrow,” he said, “I had a good time tonight.”

‘Tomorrow’ had brought a raid, her deportation, the loss of her guns. She hadn’t quite forgiven him for that, as she’d made abundantly clear in Cairo, and again in Miami. Of course, their relationship had changed since then. And on some level she’s glad he had her deported, for a month later she met ‘Michael McBride’ and her life had turned topsy-turvy with joy.

And other times she hears Pat Brady’s low-mournful tin whistle, or his eyes will glow in a certain way (after he laughs or smiles, or when he’s had a particularly good bucket of fried chicken), and she'll watch him cut through the water like a bullet. And her skin prickles with gooseflesh. And she remembers. And wonders…..


End file.
